


Wine and Dine

by UpsideAround



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Humor, Journalist!Alexander, M/M, Waiter!John, blind dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7052719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UpsideAround/pseuds/UpsideAround
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How many disastrous blind dates do you have to go on before you inevitably fall in love with the waiter that stays behind and talks to you after every one?</p><p>Alexander was pretty sure this wasn't Herc's original plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Freckles

**Author's Note:**

> ah yes...another trope...person A goes on tons of blind dates and inevitably falls in love with the waiter for the table...

“Alexandre.”

Alex readjusted the papers on his desk. “No, Laf. For the last time, I will not go on a date with your friend-with-soft hair! How do you know he has soft hair, anyway? Seems a bit creepy, Laf.”

Lafayette groaned. “Pourquoi, Alex? He is your perfect match. You share similar political views, and he has the color of eyes you like.”

“That’s all you think it takes to win my heart?” Alex said incredulously. “Same politics, and my favorite eye color? Admittedly, the politics thing is important, but eye color? Shallow.”

Lafayette sat on the desk Alex’s work was spread out on, much to the dismay of Alex. “I know my last few recommendations haven’t been… _le mieux_ , but—”

“ _Le mieux_ , Lafayette? Are you kidding me? None of your dates have even been close to _the best_.” Alex set his computer down onto the desk so he could lean forward and count off on his fingers. “The girl you work with? Total creep. An ex of yours? Trump supporter. All these blind dates have never worked out well!”

Lafayette sighed. “Just because some of them haven’t worked out very well doesn’t mean that future ones won’t.”

“Haven’t worked out very well? Try colossal disaster!”

Lafayette made a noise in the back of his throat. “That’s debatable.”

Alex rolled his eyes and pulled his laptop back onto his lap. “And when have I ever lost a debate? The answer is no, Lafayette.”

Laf sighed and hopped off Alex’s desk. Alex watched him for a moment before turning his attention back to the article he was writing.

Fingers clicking across the keyboard, he almost missed Hercules walking through the door.

“Hamilton, my man,” Herc greeted. “Why so gloomy?”

Alex slammed the screen of his laptop down. “Why does everyone think I’m upset? I’m not cranky, or tired, or lonely, or any of that other bullshit. I don’t need your help finding a date!”

Herc made a surrender motion with his hands. “I wasn’t saying that! Though, your outburst just now makes a good point. When was the last time you went out?”

“Maybe a month ago.”

Herc sighed and pulled up a chair next to Alex. “Come on, you should get yourself back out there. I know you’re disappointed about Eliza, but it’s been almost half a year since you’ve had a good date.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Alex asked, pointedly glaring at Lafayette. Lafayette shrugged.

Eliza used to be Alexander’s… girlfriend? He didn’t know how to properly label what they were. They had hit it off immediately, and Alex could see a future with her. From the first day, he knew that they had the potential to be something great. He felt as if they could last, which was rare for Alex.

But less than two months into the dating game, she got accepted into a journalism program that would take her across the country, to LA. If they had been official for longer, they might have tried to work out a long-distance arrangement. But being that they had only known each other for a month and a half, they decided to call it quits.

Occasionally, he’d get text updates from her, or he’d send her a joke he knew she’d like, but it wasn’t anything more than that.

His feelings had slowly faded into a familial contentedness. He was alright with not having her around, she had become more of a background figure in this life. Their conversations felt warm, yet superficial.

Hercules was right when he said that Alex was disappointed, he just missed the mark slightly. Alex wasn’t disappointed about losing Eliza, no.  

He was disappointed in himself for not being able to keep someone around long enough to build a future with.

Herc sighed. “Look, how about I find someone for you to go on a date with? Lafayette won’t be involved.”

Alex leaned back in his chair. “Ugh. Fine.”

Herc flashed a toothy grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll find someone good.”

Alexander waved him off. He doubted that even the combined efforts of Lafayette and Herc could find someone good.

It wasn’t to say anything about their skills, it was a statement about Alex himself.

He was an inherently bitter person, never really content to settle for anything. It was the best or nothing.

Which limited the dating pool quite a bit.

Lafayette had tried to set him up with quite a few people.

First was a girl that he worked with. She seemed nice at first, but the more Alex got to know her, the more offput he was by her, though he couldn’t figure out why.

That is, until she mentioned his recent vacation to Washington DC. Something he had only posted on his private facebook page.

Alexander smiled uncomfortably, dealing with her for the rest of the day, but planned to never contact her again.

But past that date, she still wouldn’t leave him alone, messaging him on facebook, commenting on posts he made, even tagging him in a photo of her smoking meth. 

_Thanks for the the hookup, Alexander Hamilton_ her caption read.

He blames that for why he didn’t get that job at city hall he wanted so badly.

Eventually he deleted his facebook, not like he used it much anyway, but it was still quite annoying.

Fast forward to Lafayette setting Alexander up with his own ex boyfriend. (Who does that, anyway?)

Alex thinks that they ended on good terms, but he never knew. Lafayette never really said much about him, only updates when they were together or not.

Alexander remembered the date well.

They had been exchanging polite conversation when the conversation shifted to politics. Something a little more personal, right?

It turns out, “more personal” means “more racist” when it came to this guy. He started blabbering on about how to “make America great again”.

Needless to say, Alex retaliated with a fully formed argument, feeling somewhat personally attacked when the guy brought up the issue of immigration.

Things escalated from there.

Imagine having to explain to your friends that you went out and ended up getting into a fistfight with your date.

So, Alexander didn’t trust Lafayette to set him up anymore.

He sighed as he swung the door open to the restaurant, _Le Petit Lion_. Why did an italian restaurant have a french name? Alex had no clue.

He stepped up to the register near the front of the door. The first thing he noticed was they guy who stood behind it, his dark curly hair tucked tied back. He was writing something down on a notepad.

“Excuse me? I have a reservation under the name Mulligan?” Alex said.

The guy looked up, and Alex was immediately struck with the splattering of freckles across his face. They matched his light brown eyes. It almost made Alex weak in the knees.

“Mulligan?” he asked, sifting through a stack of papers.

Alexander nodded.

The guy grinned, accentuating his freckles further. “Excellent, I’ll be your server tonight. Right this way,” he said, leading Alex to a small table in the corner.

“Thanks,” Alex said, sitting down as guy-with-the-freckles gestured to the chair.

“I’ll let you know when your date arrives,” Freckles said, handing Alexander a menu and walking back to the stand at the entrance.

Alex reached for the silverware wrapped in a napkin that was lying on the table. He unravelled it, letting the silverware clatter onto the table, and folded the napkin up absentmindedly. He folded it into halves, quarters, and eighths, unfolded it, and repeated the process.

Changing his mind, he unfolded the napkin completely. He pulled a pen out of his pocket and began to draw lines and bulletpoints over the napkin, mapping out the next article he planned to write. He started a list of who he needed to interview, brainstoming questions to ask in order to get the type of quotes he needed.

“How far back did this table have to be?”

“I wasn’t the one who made the reservation, sir.”

“Yeah, well I wasn’t either.”

“Here we are.”

Alex paused his writing and looked up.

Freckles was returning with a guy that looked, honest to god, like a rat. His nose was scrunched as if he was perpetually disgusted by everything.

Normally, Alexander would have hated him immediately, but he promised Herc that he would give this guy a chance. No matter how much he wanted to avoid the date altogether.

The rat-faced guy sat opposite of him.

“Here’s a menu,” Freckles said, placing a second menu on the table. “I’ll give you a few minutes to look over it.”

Alex nodded his thanks and Freckles walked off.

“I’m Alexander,” he said, turning to his date.

“Samuel. What’ve you got there?” he asked, gesturing to the napkin Alexander had been writing on.

Alex shrugged, folding the napkin back up and slipping it into his pocket. “Just mapping out what information I need for my next article. I work for the New York Times.”

Samuel raised an eyebrow. “A newspaper? Seems a bit outdated.”

“Not much you can do with a degree in political science,” Alex said. “I mean, I tried to get jobs in places like city hall, but they wouldn’t take me because this girl spread false information.” He sighed. “Oddly enough, a blind date disaster.”

“So you write for the paper?”

Alex nodded. “Yeah. Political opinion column. It’s not much, but I hope that with a solid career foundation, I can build myself up into something more.”

Samuel leaned back. “Don’t tell me you’re the one who wrote ‘A Full Vindication’.”

“The one and the only,” Alex said. “Wait, does that mean you’re ‘A Westchester Farmer’?”

“I am. I always thought you were a pretentious dick,” Samuel said.

“And I always thought you were an ignorant, naïve ass,” Alex replied. _And we still haven’t ruled that out, yet_.

“So, are you two ready to order?”

Freckles was back. Alex realized with a start that he hadn’t even glanced at the menu yet.

“I’ll have the…” Alex quickly pinpointed a cheap(er) item that looked decent, “Spaghetti.”

Freckles scribbled on his notepad before turning to Samuel.

“Stuffed shells for me, thanks,” he said.

Freckles nodded, writing the order down. “Would you like to pay extra for the shrimp?”

“Sure.”

Alexander gathered up the menus and handed them to Freckles, who smiled appreciatively.

“I’ll have that out to you in a few minutes,” he said.

Alex turned back to Samuel. “So, that stuff you said in your letter to my column, how much of it did you actually believe, and how much was satire?”

Samuel blinked. “Oh, all of it.”

Alex coughed. “You mean you believe that the original thirteen colonies were actually better off under a monarchy?”

“Oh yes, absolutely! You see—”

Alex put his head in his hands as Samuel began to go off on his reasoning, his very flawed reasoning, it literally had so many fallacies it’s a wonder Alex didn’t start to go off on his own argument.

Well, he made it about forty-five seconds into Samuel's rant before he interrupted.

Or, rather, tried to interrupt.

He began with a “Look at the early colonies, revolution was inevitable!” and plowed on with his own argument, which had way less weaknesses, thank you very much.

As they both argued their points, neither quite listening to the other, their food was sat in front of them.

Alexander hardly noticed at first, but then the wafts of the sweet-savory scent of spaghetti drifted into his nose and his stomach growled.

By some silent agreement, they put a pause on their debate (if it could be even called a debate; it was more of a speak-your-opinions-louder situation) and dug into their food.

Alex was pretty sure he hated this guy. He apparently had the personality of a rat, too.

“How’d you end up on a blind date?” Samuel asked after awhile.

Alex shrugged. “Well, I had a girlfriend, Eliza, but she moved and we broke things off. It wasn’t worth the distance, since we had only been dating for a month. But my friends still think I’m lonely, so here I am. What about you?”

“You had a girlfriend?” Samuel asked, almost sounding offended. He completely brushed Alex’s question off.

Alex blinked. He shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I mean, I’m bisexual, so that’s not out of the question.”

Samuel waved his hand at the nearest staff member. “Hi, I’d like a box for my food please,” he said before turning back to Alex. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we have the same idea about where this dinner is going.”

Alex scoffed. “And what, pray tell, could that be?”

Samuel accepted a box from the staff member and began place his food inside. “You’re basically straight, and I don’t want to waste my time with that.”

Alex gaped at him for a moment. “That’s not what I fucking said!”

Samuel began to put his coat on. “The dinner was nice, but I’m not interested in dating someone who’s been around.”

“Excuse me?” Alex said. “First of all, bisexual doesn’t mean I’ve ‘been around’, and second of all, someone who’s been around isn’t inherently less valuable than someone who hasn’t! And even if I had—”

“Thanks for paying, by the way,” Samuel interrupted, completely packed up and ready to go. He strut toward the exit. Alex realized with a start that he was leaving the whole of the cost with Alex, as the check hadn’t even been brought to the table.

“Oh, you know what, fuck you!” Alex shouted after him. Samuel didn’t turn around.

Alexander collapsed back into his chair with a huff. _He paid extra for that fucking shrimp, too._

“So, they sent me over to kick you out for disrupting other customers,” a voice interrupted Alex’s thoughts.

Alexander looked up into the freckled face of the waiter from earlier. “I don’t suppose you can make an exception?” he asked.

“Sure,” Freckles said, sitting down opposite Alex, “If you tell me why it was fitting to scream _fuck you_ in a family-friendly restaurant,”

Alex sighed. “Told him I was bi. He responded not too well, and left me the check.”

Freckles nodded. “You two broke up, then?”

“God no, we were never together,” Alex said, laughter bubbling up in his throat, “It was a blind date. Didn’t go so well.”

“Well,” Freckles said, “if he reacted like that then he wasn’t worth it. Better to cut the bad ones out early, yeah?”

Alexander scoffed, swirling the last drops of water in his glass. “I just wish he could have dealt with it long enough to pay for his share.” He looked up at Freckles. “Then I could afford a glass of wine to distract me from my shitty love life.”

Freckles started to get up. He paused, placing his hand on the table before turning and looking straight at Alex. “I’ll be right back.”

_At least he isn’t kicking me out_. Alex exhaled and reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet. He thumbed through a ten, a five, and a few ones. He glanced at the table where his half-eaten spaghetti resided next to the empty place where Samuel’s meal was previously.

He didn’t know how much Samuel’s dinner cost, but he hoped it wouldn’t exceed his grand total of eighteen dollars.

_Oh fuck, and I still have to tip_ , Alex thought, dropping his forehead into one hand, glaring at the table.

“This night just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?” he declared.

“What?” Freckles asked, returning with a bottle of wine in one hand, an elegant wineglass in the other.

“I have no idea how much he was supposed to pay for his dinner, and I probably won’t have enough money to tip properly and—What are you doing?” he asked as Freckles set the glass on the table and began to fill it with the wine. “I can’t afford to pay for a glass of wine.”

“Can’t afford to go on without a bit of alcohol, more like,” Freckles said. “It’s on me. I’m John,” he said, offering a hand to shake.

Alex took it. “Alexander,” he said as John sat back down across from him. “Don’t you have work to get back to?”

Freckles, John, shrugged. “My shift ends in five minutes. Which I can either spend getting yelled at by the people at table three,” he looked over his shoulder at a table with a middle-aged couple, “or sit here and pretend to be helping out the guy at table four.”

“Pretend?” Alex questioned. “Seems like you already have.”

John grinned.

 

* * *

 

“So, how did it go?” Herc asked, ambushing Alex as soon as he walked through the door. Lafayette sat alongside him, wearing that smugly excited expression.

Alex tossed his jacket onto a nearby chair. “Terrible. He was a dick, the same guy who I argued with in my article a week ago. Halfway through, I mentioned I was bi, and he decided that was too scandalous for him, so he left. Oh, and I had to cover the check. The only upside was the waiter who bought me a glass of wine afterward.”

“Aw, fuck,” Herc said, swinging his hand. “I thought Samuel was a good guy.”

Lafayette grinned. “ _Now_ can I send you on a date? My friend is really lovely, you will like him.”

“No!” Alex said. He turned to Herc. “And if you insist on sending me on more of these blind dates, you’re funding them.”

Hercules shrugged. “I’ll pay half.”

“Seventy-five percent,” Alex countered.

“Deal.”

“Okay,” Alexander said, running his hands through his hair. “Okay. I’m going back to my room to work on this article.” He picked up his laptop and swung it into his arms. “Herc, Lafayette is not allowed to have any say over who my next date is with, understood?”

Hercules nodded. “Yes, sir!” he mocked.

Alexander rolled his eyes. “You two are both assholes. Don’t bother me,” he said, retreating back into his room.

Herc and Laf immediately broke out into squabbles over who Alex’s next date should be, and Alex only got some silence when he clicked the door shut behind him. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

This was going to be a long process.


	2. A Royal Flop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> admittedly I'm just playing into all the popular tropes. When I finish this fic, however, I'll be attempting something more plotty.

Alex sighed and glanced at himself in the mirror one last time before flipping off the lights of his room and walking out to the common space.

Lafayette didn’t even look up from the book he was reading before scoffing at Alex. “Nope. Wear something else.”

Alex looked down at his outfit, a pair of dark jeans with a dark green button up shirt. “What’s wrong with what I’ve got?”

“Too casual, jeans is not enough. You should probably wear a tie. And comb your hair properly or wear it back,” Lafayette rattled off.

“You didn’t even look up!” Alex protested. “How could you have possibly picked up on all of that?”

“I know how you regularly dress, and I know the person you’re going out with,” Laf said, “and public appearance is very important to him.”

“You know...Herc! Don’t tell me Lafayette helped you pick out this date.”

Hercules walked in from the kitchen. “Of course not,” he said cooly. “Laf simply knows this person already. He’s hell-bent on setting you up with that one guy, if he had any say, that’s who you’d be going out with.”

Alex made a face. “The one who supposedly shares the same political views of me? With the eyes and the hair Laf insists I’d love?”

Lafayette looked up. “Oh, and don’t forget the freckles too. _Mon ami as_ these fantastic freckles.”

“Whatever, Lafayette. I still don’t trust you to set me up with people.” He turned to Herc. “You’re the fashion expert here, is my outfit fine?”

Hercules shrugged. “Sure. Though I’d take Lafayette’s advice and brush your hair.”

Alex sulkily ran his hands over his head and pulled his hair into a tie. He brushed his hands on his jeans. “Happy?”

“No,” Lafayette said.

“It’s fine, Alex, Lafayette is just being dramatic.”

Alex grinned. “And this is why we’re friends. Okay, I’m leaving, let’s hope this guy is better than your last pick.”

 

* * *

 

 

He was in the same restaurant as last time, you know, the one with the dumb name. _The Little Lion_ , is what it translates to. For one, it made no sense for an italian restaurant to have a french name, and for two, the name made no sense.

Alexander tore his eyes away from the sign over the door and pushed his way inside. A guy with a head of curly hair was writing something on the podium, next to a sign that read _Please wait to be seated_.

“Reservation for Mulligan?” He asked, approaching the podium.

The guy looked up when Alex spoke, and Alex recognized him as the same guy who had helped him out the week before.

“Another blind date? Here’s to hoping this one goes better than your last,” John said, nodding at Alex.

Alex scoffed. “You and me both.”

“Well,” John said, looking down at the chart in front of him, “You’re at the same table as last time, do you remember where that was?”

Alex nodded. “You have some menus I could take over? No sense in making you do that if I already know where I’m going.”

John handed Alex a pair of menus, sighing in relief. “Thanks,” he said. “It’s been a long shift.”

Alex smiled.

He walked over to the table he was at last time and had to do a double take because there was _no way this was the guy._

A white fur coat rested on the back of his chair, and the man himself was wearing a red suit. His mousy hair was tucked behind his ears and he had his hands folded on the table. Alex noticed a large gold ring glinting on his finger, the pink gemstone in the center winking at him.

Alex wasn’t even close enough to tell for sure, but he was completely certain that this guy had the whole rich-guy-blond-hair-blue-eyes thing going on.

_Herc, what did you get me into?_

Alex cautiously approached the table. “I think you’re my date,” he said.

The guy hummed. “Mm! Yes. That’s me. First name George, last name King.”

Alexander offered his hand to shake. “First name Alex, last name Hamilton.”

George gestured to the chair across from him. “Please, have a seat.”

Alex’s first instinct was to tell him to stick it, that he didn’t need permission, but he shrugged it off, figuring George must just be being polite. He promised Herc that he’d give blind dating a chance.

“Here, I’ve got menus,” Alex said, handing across the table to George.

George’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?” he scoffed, not accepting the menu.

Alex looked down at the menu, shaking it slightly at him. “Yeah, you order off of them? It’s pretty standard for restaurants.”

“I know what a menu is!” George hissed. “I am offended that the service here is so horrendous that they have the customers handing out menus!”

Alex cleared his throat. “Well, that’s not really their fault, I was the one who—”

“And where is our waiter! I’m ready to order!”

Alex exhaled. He put his head in his hands and stared at the table, exasperated.

“Hey, Waiter!” George shouted, waving his arm in the air. John, being the closest staff member, unfortunately caught George’s eye. George began to make large gestures, indicating for John to hurry up.

“I’m sorry sirs, what can I get you tonight?” John said, rushing over to the table.

“Spaghetti, like last time? Thanks,” Alex said.

“I’ll have the fresh lobster, and may I have a soda with a bit of ice at the bottom?” George said, grimacing.

“And what kind of soda would you like?” John asked.

“Whatever’s good,” George said, smiling.

John briefly glancing at Alex, who shrugged. “Alright, I’ll have that out in a minute.”

John walked off, leaving Alex with George to make pleasant conversation.

Tense was probably a better word.

Alex smiled his usual charming smile, and made superficial conversation. Which was fitting, because it seemed as if George was a superficial person.

He talked as if he was better than anyone is his presence, but never said anything of importance.

This annoyed Alex, as he was at his best when he could dig deep into a conversations and weave words properly.

Several times, Alex would steer the conversation to something of import. (“Do you want to hear about the time me and Herc almost got caught shoplifting a bracelet?”)

And then George would steer it right back to materialism. (“You can’t afford to pay for a trinket? That’s terribly sad. I could have bought the whole store.”)

You can’t weave anything out of straw.

Eventually, their food arrived, later than expected, and Alex dug in.

George, on the other hand, sat stock still and didn’t make a single move to pick up his fork.

“Gosh, the service here is horrible, isn’t it?” George said, winking at Alex.

“Gosh, the service here is the best they can do, isn’t it?” Alex said, looking up at George and flashing a grin.

“Oh no, don’t change the subject,” George scoffed. “We shouldn’t be paying this absurd amount for such lack of service.”

Alex grimaced. He wondered if George even cared about the price. Anyone with a literal gold watch probably didn’t.

“Watch this,” George said, winking again.

_Oh boy._

“Um, Excuse me, Mister Waiter?” George said, raising his hand. “This isn’t what I ordered.”

John, who was rushing past their table, stopped in his tracks and turned back. “Sir?”

George scoffed. “I believe I ordered a Coca-Cola, with a little ice on the bottom?”

“I can change it out for you if you like, but you still have to pay for the Coke,” John offered.

“Excuse me? Who do you think I am?”

“Frankly,” John said, settling back onto one hip, “I have no clue.”

George slammed his fist onto the table. “I ordered a good soda! This, what is this? Sprite? This Sprite is the shittist soda you could possibly give me. And this ice! Not what I ordered.”

John pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment before looking back up at George and plastering on a grin. “And what did you order?”

“I ordered a little ice at the bottom,” George said. “This ice is on the top.”

“Oh, pardon me, I forgot to break the rules of physics. I’ll try better next time,” John said through a tight grin.

George crossed his arms. “I don’t think your manager would be pleased if he heard how you’ve been giving me attitude this whole night. I demand to speak with him!” he shouted.

“Okay!” John said, rushing forward and hushing George. “No need to get my boss mixed up in this. Have your fucking soda, I’ll pay for it, alright?”

George paused, pursing his lips. “Alright,” he said after awhile.

John nodded, straightened up, smoothed out his shirt and then walked away from the table.

“Free soda,” George said, lifting his glass and grinning smugly.

Alexander stood up. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is going to work out. Wait—scratch that, I’m not sorry. You are a royal dick and if I didn’t almost get kicked out of this place last time, I’d punch you.”

Alex flipped him off and stormed toward the exit. He huffed right past the desk at the front, where John stood.

_Shit. My food._

Alex turned heel and marched back to the table where George sat smugly.

“I knew you’d be back,” he said.

“I’m not here because of you!” Alex hissed. “I’m here because I’m broke and I need to save all the food I can.”

“Pity,” George said, leaning forward to Alex, “I would have no idea what not having money feels like. And if you hadn’t flipped me off, I’m sure we could have made an arrangement,” he said with a sickening grin.

“Fuck off, you selfish ass. If I had a dollar for every second in your presence, I’d still be broke because I’m continuously more repulsed by every word out of your mouth.”

Alex scooped his plate up and marched off to the podium at the entrance. He walked behind it, as if he was staff, and began to search underneath for their takeout boxes.

There was no way he was waiting another ten minutes for someone to bring him one of these. It was already irritating enough that the had to go back and get his food, and stare at George’s smug face.

He caught a glimpse of the telltale cardboard in one corner and reached for it.

“I hope you’re not robbing us,” a voice chided him. “Not like I’d care, I’d care.”

Alex stood up, holding the box he found in one hand and the spaghetti in the other. “Listen,” he said, turning around and straightening up to face John, “I’m just getting out of a shit date here.”

John squinted at Alex. “And you couldn’t wait an hour for the check, what with our ‘shitty service’ and all,” he said, air quoting _shitty service_.

Alex exhaled. “God, you probably heard that remark all the way in the back, didn’t you?”

John didn’t answer, but instead took his plate from him. “Here, hold the box and I’ll scoop this spaghetti you didn’t pay for into it.”

“I’m going to pay, give me a minute,” Alex said, holding the box steady as the spaghetti dropped into it. He snapped the box shut and pulled out his wallet. “For my dinner as well as that dumb soda.”

John laughed. “No, you don’t have to pay for the soda. We have a jar in the back, full of any spare change we find, that we use to pay for any dinners that customers throw a fit about.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “So that’s why you let him win?”

John nodded. “Yeah. It’s not worth the fight.”

Alex handed John a ten and then started to close his wallet. He thumbed it gently before unfolding it again.

“Here. For dealing with that,” Alex said, pointing over his shoulder at George with his thumb. “I would stay behind and deal with him myself but I do not want to get kicked out of yet another restaurant,” Alex muttered, flipping through his wallet and pulling out a couple fives, “It’s not even mine, but I doubt that dick over there will tip. I’d be surprised if he even pays.”

“Is this becoming a regular thing?” John asked, letting Alex slip him the money. “You paying for another shitty date?”

Alex snorted. “I hope not. But it’s not so bad since I negotiated a deal with my friend, Hercules Mulligan, that’s the name the reservations are always under, so that I only pay for 25% of these dates.”

“Oh, really?” John said, leaning forward. “Would you still be paying me this much if you had to pay all of it?”

“Probably not. I’d probably just punch George over there. He’s got a fitting last name— _King_. He sure acts as entitled as one.”

John drummed his fingers on the desk. “If it was me, I would have just punched him. His face has that kind of quality that is just begging for it, you know?”

Alex stifled a laugh. “Well, I wish I could punch him right in his entitlement.”

John fingered the money. “If you had punched him, I would have had to kick you out.”

Alex grinned. “Would have been worth it. Hey, thanks for being cool about this nonsense,” he said, realizing with a start that he was leaning into the desk. He pulled back, slapping his palm on the podium slightly.

“No problem,” John said. “It’s way more interesting than any of my usual shit.”

“Well,” Alex said, walking backwards toward the door, “I’m an interesting person.”

He pushed the door open and turned outside easily.

The outside was cool and dark. Alex shivered slightly.

He sighed and began to walk toward the nearest bus stop.

 

* * *

 

One was an incident. Two was coincidence. Three is a pattern.

It’s been two shitty dates.

If the next one wasn’t different, Alex wasn’t going to let Herc set him up with anyone ever again either.


	3. Soup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Public transportation is the shit, you guys.

Jacket off, Alexander looked like he hadn’t slept in several days.

But, as soon as he tossed the suit jacket on, he continued to look like he hadn’t slept in several days. Except now he was wearing a jacket.

He sighed and tied his hair back. He didn’t look quite so homeless, but he still had bags under his eyes. He stared at himself in the mirror for a second before shrugging and leaving.

Stumbling out of the apartment, it occurred to him that perhaps he should have bought more caffeine pills. Writing almost nonstop for several days takes its toll.

To be honest, he should have slept and ate a lot more than he had been the past few days. But he really couldn’t help it—When he had the right combination of inspiration and motivation, he needed to put his whole life on pause and do nothing but write.

No friends, minimal eating, little-to-no sleep, no distractions.

Just finishing his article about the proposed renovation for one of the schools downtown, today was supposed to be his day to collapse into bed and sleep for the next fourteen hours.

But, of course, this was the day that Herc had arranged for him to have another blind date. He said it was some girl that he went to school with.

He was supposed to meet her at the same restaurant as before, the dumb italian place with the french name.

He stifled a yawn as he stumbled down the stairs.

Where to?

Ah yes, the bus stop. His muddled brain worked agonizingly slow.

He didn’t know how he managed to make his way across the street and down a few blocks to the proper stop, but when he opened his eyes, he realized he was where he needed to be.

He was well accustomed to running on autopilot.

He leaned up against the street sign, sighing gently as his eyes fluttered shut.

He jerked up when the sharp _hiss_ of the bus’s brakes screamed in his ears.

Looking back on it, he didn’t remember getting on the bus. Or riding the bus into the city. Or how he even managed to get off at the right stop.

All he knew was that he ended up right back at the same place as always. In _Le Petit Lion_ , standing in front of the desk, asking to be seated.

“I have a r—” Alex stifled a yawn “reservation for Mulligan?”

He blinked, slowly registering the person in front of him, who seemed to be saying something that washed over Alexander.

“Hey, you’re the,” Alex waved his hand, “same as last time,” he said, eyes finally focusing on John in front of him.

“You look like you’re about to fall over,” John said.

Alex found the energy to snort before letting his face fall back to a neutral expression. “I’ll, ah, I’ll be fine.”

John looked him over. “Okay,” he said, shrugging. “You’re at the same table as last time.”

Alexander nodded and hummed in the back of his throat. Moving his lips seemed like too much of a chore.

He followed John back to the small table in the corner, where a lady in an elegant red dress was sitting.

“You must be Alexander?” She asked smoothy.

“The one and only,” Alex managed, forcibly straightening his back.

“I’m Maria,” she said, shaking his hand.

John placed two menus on the table. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

It was all Alex could do not to collapse into his chair.

“So,” Maria started, folding her hands on the table, “Tell me about yourself.”

And Alexander blanked.

The only things his mind could supply him with were the words already floating around inside his head, the residue from his article. _For the love of god, ask me about the struggles of finding a new parking lot. Or the probable cost. Or how the students might react to a new building. Not myself. What do I know about myself? Fuck, I need a nap._

Maria raised an eyebrow expectantly at him.

Alexander pried his jaw open. “I’m bi, I hope that isn’t a problem, because the last blind date I went on the guy up and left when he figured that out.”

Well, it wasn’t the last date, but he was too exhausted to correct himself.

“Not a problem,” she said, drumming her fingers on the table. “I’ve gone on a few messy dates myself.”

Alex nodded. He closed his eyes and gestured for her to continue.

That was a mistake.

As she began to talk about her messy date, her voice, with its melodic highs and lows, lulled him into a daze. He collapsed into his palm, hearing only the rhythm of his pulse.

His breathing matched the slow beating of his heart.

“—and so then I ended up having to walk the five miles back to my place—Are you even listening?”

Alexander jerked up, flashing his eyes open. “Huh? Yeah. Something about…” his eyes fluttered shut again, he forced them open and waved his hand, “Walking five miles back home?”

Maria scoffed, leaning back in her chair, disinterested.

Alex turned his head and saw John approaching the table.

“So, how’s it going?” John asked, holding a notepad. “You two ready to order?”

Maria shrugged. “Sure. I’ll have your special.”

John nodded. “Alright. And you?” he asked, turning back to Alex.

“Give me, uh,” Alex dropped his finger onto an item on the menu, even he wasn’t sure what it was, only that it probably tasted good, “This.”

“You want the,” John looked over his shoulder, “Tomato soup?”

“Sure,” Alex said.

“Alright,” John said, scribbling on the notebook. “I’ll have that out to you in a minute.”

And just like that, Alexander was back to fighting to stay awake on his date. Which was unfortunate, because Maria seemed to be genuinely his type. A shame he couldn’t properly converse, his mind filled with nothing but stats, information, and quotes about the damn renovation.

A shame that he continued to drift in and out of sleep, jerking awake as he almost fell out of his chair several times.

The world was blurring, and he didn’t notice his food had been brought out until he found himself, asleep, face first in his soup.

_When did that happen?_

He groaned and lifted himself up. Maria was gone, he was alone at his table. He collapsed back into the soup, the entire right side of his face was soaked in the soup as he slept on his side.

It was an odd thing, falling asleep against your will. Alex crashed hard and fast, the second his face hit the table, he was out cold. He didn’t dream, his mind was blissfully blank.

He drifted awake again at one point, but continued to lay slouched, not caring about his current sleeping position.

“Oh, Alex, what did I tell you about your sleeping habits?”

“Or lack of them, I assume?”

Voices drifted into his ears, but Alexander couldn’t find the energy to pull himself up and let them know he was awake and listening. He recognized Hercules’s voice, and the other sounded familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint 

“How’d you know to call me?” Herc said.

“Well, he fell asleep and his date left, looking quite annoyed. I figured that since it was a blind date, the phone number from the reservation must have been a mutual friend. So I called it.”

Oh. It was John.

Alex heard Herc sigh. “Well, let’s get him into a proper place to sleep. How strong are you?”

“Strong enough. Why?”

“I’ll go and bring my car around, do you think you could carry him out? I wouldn’t ask, but I think this is the most sleep he’s gotten in a week.”

Alexander would rather just wake up, but he couldn’t bring himself to move.

“Yeah, okay,” he heard John say softly.

Alex felt John slip his arms under his knees and behind his arms. His head lolled back as John lifted him up. John’s arms were warm against his back, and a content sigh escaped Alex’s lips as the movement of John carrying him out rocked him back to sleep.

The last thing he remembered was wondering if he’d had left a decent tip.

 

* * *

 

Alex jerked awake.

He flew out of his bed and immediately slipped and slammed into the ground.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling himself back up and setting his feet properly underneath himself.

He grabbed his phone to check the time. He pressed the power button but the screen remained dark. He sighed and tossed his phone back onto the bed.

How long had he been asleep?

“What year is it?” he said aloud, stepping out of his room and pulling his hair back into a tie. He glanced down the short hall to see Herc standing in front of the table.

“2031. You had a light coma there.”

Honestly, it felt like he’d really fallen into a coma. His limbs felt like they had boulders weighing them down, and Alex was incredibly disoriented.

“Oh, you’re full of shit,” Alex said, scrubbing his face with his hands.

Hercules snorted. “It’s Sunday. About three in the afternoon. You’ve been sleeping for about eighteen hours.”

Alex gaped at him. “And you let me?”

“Well, you did fall asleep while on your date last night,” Herc said. “Needed the sleep sometime.”

Oh yeah, that happened.

“Shit! Do you know what happened to her?” Alex said, stepping over a stray bag of chips on the floor and making his way to the kitchen.

Herc shook his head. “No, but she did text me and tell me that she didn’t appreciate the disaster of a date, so I don’t think she’ll be interested in having another go with you.”

“Damnit,” Alex said, making his way over to the refrigerator, as his stomach was cramping. “She seemed great, too. After the first two disasters I was starting to question your ability to pick out dates for me.”

“I’m starting to run out options, though,” Herc said. “If you don’t settle for one of the next two people on my list—”

“—I will resign from dating,” Alex interrupted, spinning around and staring Hercules in the eye.

“What? Alex, why?” Herc asked, falling into a seat at the table.

Alex turned back around, shrugging. “I’m not content to settle. There’s nothing a mediocre relationship can do that I couldn’t do myself.”

Alex pulled milk out of the refrigerator with one hand and reached into the cabinet to grab a box of cereal with the other. He knocked the cabinet door shut with his elbow and shut the fridge door with this shoulder as he turned around to walk toward the table.

“Good Lord Alexander, that is one of the most depressing things I’ve ever heard,” Herc said, sliding a bowl towards Alex.

Alex shrugged, pouring his cereal into it. He didn’t think so.

Hercules leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table. “Well, we’ll see how your next date goes. The person I’ve got lined up is quite similar to you.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“You’re both quite loud in your opinions and political beliefs. He’s also quite interested in military history, like you.”

Alex shoved himself a spoonful of the Lucky Charms. “So we’re both obnoxiously loud about opinions, yet you do not know if we even believe in the same thing?” He scoffed. “Well, this will either be phenomenally awful or just plain phenomenal.”

Herc laughed. “Well, with you, that’s how everything goes.”

“Can’t blame you for trying. When’s the date?” Alex asked.

“Next week. Same restaurant.”

Alex groaned and flopped his head into his hands. “The one with the stupid name?”

Herc cracked a smile. “Yeah, but the food is good. Plus, I’m paying, so you don’t need to complain.”

Alex exhaled, slumping back. “And a pretty good staff, too. John’s always great when a date goes sour. It keeps me sane, really.”

Hercules raised an eyebrow. “John?”

Alex waved his hand, another bite of cereal crunching in his mouth.

He swallowed. “Yeah, the waiter for the table you always set me up at. A five minute conversation with him is twice as good as the entirety of a date with Samuel or George.”

“Not Maria?”

Alex snorted. “I was asleep for most of that date, I hardly think I can judge off of that. Though,” Alex said, face settling into a soft grin, “It was better being asleep in someone’s arms than being asleep face first in some soup.”

“Was it, now?”

“Yeah,” Alex sighed. He stared off into the corner of the room, sighing warmly. “Yeah, it really was.”

Herc made a noise of agreement and nodded. He fell silent, watching Alex eat his breakfast.

Hercules meant well, really, but Alex didn’t want to go on another damn date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [tumblr](upsidearound.tumblr.com)
> 
> Edit: WTF THIS CHAPTER HAS FANART?! [here](http://wizardship.tumblr.com/post/145633750469/some-very-stupid-art-made-for-upsidearound-s-fic)


	4. McNuggets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi Samuel and Charles's characters in this aren't based on any history, I just characterized them as assholes.
> 
> I also apologize for how cheesy this fic has gotten. It'll be over soon, I promise.
> 
> Chapter three got fanart! I have a link in the notes there. :)

Alexander was pretty sure he’d died and gone to hell.

All his past mistakes had finally caught up with him, and he was being punished by the universe. 

This guy poked at every nerve. 

Every tiny thing that Alexander was ashamed about. Everything that stepped on his nerves. Any goddamn thing that Alex worked so hard to get past was being shoved right back into his face in the form of Charles Lee. 

It started with the general assholery. Simply the way he talked was very condescending, as if he knew better than Alex.

It’s not like Alex didn’t  _ try _ to make the date go well. They had their common interests about military history, and Alex attempted to make conversation with that.

“Oh, I don’t care about that,” Charles had replied. “I’d rather talk about world history instead of early American history. It’s more interesting, and therefore better.”

Alexander brushed it off.

But later, as the conversations developed, it just kept getting worse and worse.

The more he talked, the more Alex grew resentful of the way his words spread and the piercing tone of his voice.

Charles had this sneering tone, as if he knew that his voice matched his personality, but continued to do whatever he wanted anyway. He semi-shouted every other word, and it pierced into Alex’s head, giving him a headache and a valid reason to collapse his face into his hands.

There was no goddamn reason to yell the words as he did. It was as if he was aware his words were completely void of meaning, so he shouted them in order to give them significance.

And that wasn’t even touching on the words themselves.

“I saw someone on the street asking for money the other day,” Charles mentioned at one point. “Asking for money to help fund an orphanage, can you believe it?”

Alex swallowed the food he was currently working on. He forced a grin. “No, really?”

Charles remained oblivious to the sarcasm. “Yeah! I mean honestly, what can some orphans want? Just go get yourself a job! Don’t try and take my money.”

“Hold on,” Alex said. “Just because someone has distinct disadvantages — ”

“No one wants those bastard orphans, anyway,” Charles said, smiling at Alex.

If that wasn’t the last nail in Alex’s annoyance coffin.

Yeah, no goddamn family wanted him, wonderful. He had to fend for himself and deal with all the goddamn issues that came along with raising yourself. 

Being called unwanted might have hurt him if it had come from someone who hadn’t been irritating him all night. Being annoying really invalidated anything Charles had to say.

As it was, Charles’ comment just made Alex angry. Angry and checked out of the date.

Alex forced himself to unclench his fist and set the fork that was in it on the table.  “I’m sorry, what?”

“Well, yeah,” Charles said. “Why else would they be left abandoned?”

Alex looked Charles right in the eye. “Considering I’m an orphan myself, you should probably rethink your argument. My mother died. Sounds a lot like not being my damn fault.”

Charles rolled his eyes. “What about your father, then? My guess is that he left. Probably because your mother wasn’t exactly loyal.”

Alex’s blood ran cold. “How did you know that?”

“It’s always the same story.  _ My father left, my mother died _ ,” he mocked. “Get over it, I say.”

“Excuse me,” Alex said, getting up from the table, “But I do not have the time nor do I have the will to put up with people who think so little of me.”

He scoffed once more before storming off. Why the hell did he continue to go on these dates? Every single one ended in disaster and wasted his time.

Time he could have spent searching for a second job. Time he could have spent digging around on the internet for another good story. Time he could have spent writing said story. 

Time he could have spent doing literally anything else.

He felt someone catch his arm.

“Hey,” John said, “Is everything going okay?”

“No,” Alex said between clenched teeth. “The ass keeps talking about shit he doesn’t understand, and he’s too big and dumb to comprehend any of the arguments or insults I present against him.”

John glanced behind Alex at Charles, still gripping his arm. “Punch him,” John suggested. “Even idiots understand pain.”

Alex sighed. “I’d love to, but after the last time, Hercules gave me explicit instructions not to get into fights with any more dates. Can’t afford hospital bills from another fight.”

John’s eyes lit up. He grinned widely. “Another?” he asked, gleaming.

“Yeah, the guy was a Trump supporter and I took it pretty personally — Wait, how is this relevant?”

Alex felt John’s eyes meet his. “What’s Lee been saying?”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “You know him?”

John tilted his head slightly. “Yeah. Didn’t want to spoil your date, but now that it’s already mostly spoiled, I can tell you I once socked him in the jaw. It split his lip.”

Alex grinned. “You mean that scar he told me was from getting into a fight over a kid that was getting bullied was actually you?”

“Oh god, has he been telling you he’s the hero now? Let me tell you, he isn’t. Loves to exaggerate, he was the one that was out of line.”

“Tell me about it,” Alex muttered. “He’s started rambling on about the orphanage that’s running low on money. Calling the kids lazy, saying there’s a reason they were left there.”

“Typical. He hasn’t changed a bit.”

Alex sighed. “I was just going to leave, it’s either get into a fight or leave him the check. And one of those things I can actually afford.”

“What if I punched him?” John asked. 

“You’ll get fired.”

John shrugged. “Probably. I hate this job anyway, and that guy really deserves it.”

Alex laughed. “That he does.”

John took a step back from Alex. They stood there for a moment before John dashed forward to where Charles was shoveling breadsticks into his mouth.

“Hey. Lee,” John said. “I've heard that you were talking shit again.”

Charles smirked. “Yeah, what are you going to do about it?”

Alex stifled a grin. They were starting to get attention from the people around them, people were putting down their forks and turning their heads.

“It’s not my fault if you get punched for being a dick when you're supposed to be on a date,” John said, easily shrugging back.

Charles sneered back. “It's not my fault that my date is a bastard orphan nobody wanted.”

John didn't even hesitate to snap his fist into the center of Charles’s face.

“I thought you were joking!” Alex screeched as Charles gave a yelp of pain and slipped to the floor.

“At the time, I was,” John said, looking down at Charles. 

John stood there for a moment. The room was quiet, other customers turned and were silently watching, tentative to make a single sound.

“You broke my fucking nose!” Charles shouted from the ground.

Alex slowly moved his eyes to John. “Oh my god, I am so glad you weren’t,” Alex reveled. 

John leaned back, turning around to face Alex. He was breathing heavily, and a lock of hair had fallen into his face. He laced it through his fingers and and re-tucked the curl into his hair tie. He rubbed a thumb along his bottom lip and he looked so incredibly _casual_ that Alex was astonished he had just punched a guy to the floor.

Alexander stepped forward, suddenly very close to John.

“Laurens!” 

John jumped back. 

A tall man was marching toward them. He held his head high. His eyes were burning.

“What happened here?” The man said, stopping to stand in front of John. 

“He punched me in the fucking nose!” Charles shouted. “I'll never breathe again!”

The man exhaled before turning to face John again. “You're aggravating our customers.”

“Maybe you should have punched him in the mouth,” Alex muttered. John cracked a smile but repressed it when the man glared at him.

The man sighed. “Your shift is over, Laurens. Perhaps your employment here as well. Leave immediately, before I decide to fire you right now.”

“Sir!” Alex shouted as John turned to leave. The man looked to Alex, raising an eyebrow.

“Sir,” Alex started again. “If I may, it was not entirely John’s fault. He was defending me because I was getting fed up with my date. I was the one who proposed the idea to punch him, sir.”

The man looked between them. “Are you two friends, then?”

“I assume so,” Alex said, simultaneous with John's “I think so.”

“Never,” Charles shouted from the ground. 

The man bent over and offered a hand to help him up. “I'm sorry about that, any customer should feel welcome. Thank you for your service.”

“Whatever,” Charles muttered, still holding his face. He shot daggers from his eyes at John, who winked, and left the room.

The man sighed. “Listen,” he said, turning back to Alex. “This doesn't have anything to do with you, son. It has to do with the restraint of my employees.”

John grinned nervously. 

“But Sir — ” 

“That is that!” The man thundered. “Laurens, get out of here.”

John didn't have to be told twice. He launched himself up and quickly dashed out. 

Alex sighed and collapsed into his chair. Another date, gone to shit, and John wasn't even here for the aftermath this time.

“We’ll take care of the check,” the man said nodding at Alex.

Alex exhaled. “That's really not necessary.” 

“No, it's alright, the least we can do, really,” the man said, smiling gently.

“I'm not a charity case!” Alex bit back.

A pause.

“It's our customer policy.”

A second pause.

Alex waved his hand. “Fine. Whatever.” He didn’t make eye contact.

The man walked off.

Alexander was left with the shattered remains of a date. He was alone at his table, picking up a fork to twirl it between his fingers. He had no appetite. 

His food was long since cold, and Charles had eaten all of his prior to getting punched in the face.

Alex snorted at the memory before settling back into his bitterness. He whipped out his phone and punched a text to Hercules.

_ Date went to shit. _

He felt his phone buzz in response but he didn’t bother looking. 

Instead, he shoved his phone in his pocket and stood up to leave. He wanted to get home to the tiny fucking apartment he shared with Lafayette and Herc. Rant about the stupid date.

The empty seat across the table taunted him. He rushed toward the exit, eager to be out of the swamp of bad-date memories.

When he left the restaurant through the glass doors, he breathed in the soft night air. It wasn't uncomfortable, like the atmosphere had been inside. Taking another breath, Alex noticed a figure leaned up against the wall. 

“John?” he asked. 

John turned. “Shit, you caught me lurking outside the restaurant I was previously employed at.”

“Why are you still here?” Alex asked, stepping forward and leaning against the brick exterior as well. 

John shrugged. “I’ve got nothing better to do. Might as well stand outside here and play Candy Crush until my phone dies,” he said, lifting his phone.

Alex grinned. “You still play Candy Crush?”

John rolled his eyes. “Sue me, I find it fun.”

“If you think solving overly difficult puzzles for relatively little payoff is fun, sure.” Alex pulled out his phone. “Now,” he said, flipping through his apps, “Trivia Crack is where it’s at,” he said, turning the screen to John.

John bit down a grin, placing his hands on Alex’s and pushing his phone back down. Alex felt himself smile. 

“What time is it?” Alex asked.

John looked down at his phone again. “Almost eleven.”

Alex sighed and leaned back. “What do you say we hit up a 24-hour McDonalds? I never did end up having a proper date, what with him being an absolute dick and all.”

John raised an eyebrow. “And McDonalds with the waiter that punched your date is a proper evening out, is it?”

“Sure it is,” Alex said. “Come on, what else were you going to do tonight? You were just hanging outside the restaurant you got kicked out of!”

John laughed. “Okay, fair enough. Lead the way.”

Alex began to march down the street, John following close behind.

He didn’t even remember where they struck up conversation, but somehow they talked as easily as if they were already lifelong friends.

There was familiar banter. There were stifled giggles as they talked, gripping each other to keep from collapsing with laughter.

Alex was at ease. Everything was funny; the night air was intoxicating. They took turns sharing stories, but it took almost half an hour to finish one because they continued to dissolve into snorts and giggles instead of choking out another word to the story.

Some they did manage to get out are as follows.

As Alex pulled up the route to the nearest McDonalds, he began to tell John about the only time he’d been in danger of failing a class. He told John about how he made it a goal to pester the teacher into giving him some sort of pointers on how to pass his class. But his grades did nothing but drop.

Turns out, the teacher was dropping his grades because he was getting annoyed by Alex. 

Alex was too busy watching John laugh at his past mistake to notice that they were supposed to turn a few blocks back.

Eventually they figured it out, but not before John started to tell Alex about the first time he had punched Charles Lee.

Alex nearly shrieked with glee at the thought of Charles attempting to complain in that shrill voice and bicker loudly with a split lip. 

John asked about Alex falling asleep in the soup. Alex followed up with the story of the time he was so tired he threw coffee over his shoulder instead of in his mouth. John threw back his head at that one. 

They stumbled into the McDonalds, half bent over with laughter, and forcibly stood up straight in order to make a proper public appearance. 

John stood stoic in front of the register. “I’d like a 20 piece McNugget, stop laughing Alex, I have to order our food,” he said, laughter leaking into his words.

“Would you like that for here or to go?” the exhausted cashier asked.

“For here,” Alex interrupted. “If this is supposed to be a make-up date then we can’t take it to go, what sort of people are we?”

“Alex, this is McDonalds. Standards are prettly low right now.”

Alex scoffed. “Says something about all my shitty blind dates.”

John didn’t respond.

Alex took a breath as the laughter died down.

When their food was done, John quietly took the box and they slid into a booth. 

“Cheers,” Alex said, lifting up a nugget.

“Cheers,” John agreed, and tapped the one in his hand to Alex’s.

Alex exhaled gently as he ate. The artificial lights flickered overhead, and Alex felt himself relax into the familiar atmosphere.

“Oh, did I ever tell you how I came out to my dad?” John asked.

“Obviously not, we’ve had about three hours of total conversation,” Alex said. “Tell me.”

John grinned. “Okay, so he’s this really crusty southern conservative, right? Always telling me what I should and shouldn’t be doing. And I needed to go along with it for the longest time, because he was paying for my college.”

“Yeah,” Alex said, reaching for another nugget.

“So what I decide to do, on the day of graduation, is to locate my entire extended family, shout  _ hey by the way, I’m super gay, _ and kiss my at-the-time boyfriend. They were all stock still and my dad was turning bright red. I may have followed it up with a  _ thanks for the diploma! _ and kissed him again. With tongue. ”

Alex laughed. “Wow, and then they ended up all fine with it?”

“Oh, no,” John said. “I got kicked out of the house, but I never had to pay a cent for college, and that’s better than most people.”

“Very true,” Alex said, snapping and finger-gunning at John. “Thanks for humoring me on this psuedo-date, by the way. To be honest, you’ve been the only good thing to come out of these horrible dates.”

“Glad I could help,” John said. “I’ll be relieved when you finally stop having shitty dates, but I’ll miss the hilarity.”

Alex smiled. “If the next one doesn’t work out, I don’t think I’ll be coming back,” he said.

“Why?” John asked, munching on another nugget.

Alex shrugged. “None of the dates have really worked out.”

John grinned. “It’s not like I’ll be coming back either, I’m probably super fired right now.”

“Worth it,” Alex said. He raised an eyebrow at John.

“Oh,  _ yes, _ ” John said, a smirk teasing his lips. “What about you? Have your dates been worth it?”

Alexander leaned back against the booth. “I don’t know,” he said. “On the one hand, the actual dates have been the worst hours of my life.”

“And on the other hand?” John asked, munching on another chicken nugget.

“On the other hand,” Alex mused over the words, “this fantastic eventing wouldn’t have happened if not for that idiot Charles Lee. Or any of the other idiots. Or my idiocy.”

John smiled at Alexander.

Alex grinned back.


	5. Pink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm looking for a beta/editor. Fill out [this form](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1stsHApM0N6gjLBewO8yaH7xSJaR3dT7Q81ULPCFZWEU/viewform?entry.1719541925&entry.1814286483&entry.170009068&entry.1274416658&entry.168627929&entry.307153231&entry.1233924649) if you're interested.
> 
> Finally got this chapter up! Dialogue is probably my weakest point, and this fic is 80% dialogue.

“I just had the best date ever,” Alex announced, tossing his jacket on the couch.

Hercules shushed him. “Lafayette is trying to sleep, though I’m sure he’d be less inclined to kill you if you woke him up to stories of your good date.”

Alex lowered his voice. “I’d rather not risk it at all, actually. I may end up alive, but thoroughly injured.”

“Good point,” Herc said, leaning forward from his spot on the couch, putting down his phone. “So Charles was a hit, then?”

Alex laughed. “Oh, no, he was a dick. But it was still the best date ever.”

Herc stared back blankly.

“ _ Because, _ ” Alex said, stepping forward, “the waiter, John right, already knew the guy. Apparently they had some sort of disagreement a few years back.”

Herc raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

Alex nodded vigorously. “Yeah, I don’t really know all the details but apparently Charles was being a dick and John gave him a split lip. Anyway, I’m on this date that is already going shitty enough, Charles has this really annoying voice that just seems to push it’s way into everything I tried to say — ”

“ — And we all know how you like to hear yourself talk,” Herc muttered.

“ — So eventually I get fed up with it, and get up to leave before I decided to get into yet another fight on a date. We really couldn’t afford another hospital bill like the one after that one guy Laf set me up with.

“So I’m walking off, pissed, when John grabs my arm and stops me in my tracks. I rant a little to him, he tells me a little of his history with Charles and then he suggests that he could punch him. 

“I thought he was joking, but then Charles called me a bastard and he punched him to the ground. Broke his nose.”

“Oh fuck,” Hercules said. “I’m going to have to deal with the ramifications of that.”

Alex shrugged. “Oh! And I haven’t even told you the best parts yet!” He clapped his hands together.

“That wasn’t the best part?” Herc said, gesturing for Alex to continue.

“Well, John’s boss came out to see what was going on, and at this point everyone is sorta starting at him. Including me, I won’t lie. He gets chewed out, but we’re both trying not to laugh,” Alex said, pacing around, speaking with his wild gestures. 

“We?”

Alex waved Hercules off. “I found it funny as well. Anyway, he basically gets suspended, kicked out of the building. Charles has already left as well, screaming about his broken nose. I’m alone at the table. That’s when I texted you.”

Herc raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“I give up on having a pleasant dinner and decide to leave. And John’s just — ” Alex pushed his hands in front of himself, “ — there. Outside the restaurant. We start to talk, and god, we both use the oldest apps — and then we walk together towards a McDonalds — I’m laughing harder than I’ve ever been on previous date nights — when he laughs he throws his head back and it’s honestly incredibly radiant — ”

“Alex!” Hercules interrupted. “Slow down, what happened?”

Alex’s face split into a grin. “We laughed at dumb stories we told each other. Hit up a McDonalds at around midnight, called it a date. As a joke, of course, but it was better than anything you’ve sent me on so far.”

“Sounds to me,” Herc said, “That you should ask this  _ John  _ out. And to be fair, Maria was not my fault.”

Alex gaped at him. “Are you serious? I don’t even know if he’s single!”

“So?” Herc shrugged. “If he isn’t, it’ll be as simple as a no.”

Alex shook his hand at him. “No, I can’t, I don’t know him outside of the restaurant, he’s probably already dating someone, and I told you guys I would let you try and set me up with people. I’m eager to prove that you can’t come up with anyone remotely compatible.”

Hercules sighed and shook his head. “Whatever you say. What happened after that?”

Alex sighed, finally allowing himself to collapse into the couch beside Herc. “We talked a little more. It was quiet conversation, but it was nice. I really enjoyed that McDonalds — we split a 20 piece McNugget.”

“And somehow you managed to get yourself back here?”

Alex scoffed. “I know how to use the public transportation system, unlike you with your fancy-ass car.”

Herc shook his head, grinning. “I don’t know why you keep calling it fancy. It’s twenty years old and falls apart every other week.”

Alex hummed. “It’s  _ a _ car. And we live in New York City.”

Hercules laughed. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Damn right,” Alex said, settling back into the couch and shutting his eyes. “I’m so tired.”

“I don’t blame you, it’s almost three in the morning.”

Alex flew upright, eyes bugging out. “I was out for that long?” he shrieked.

“Yes, Alex, I figured coming back at three meant that the date either went horribly or very, very well. And sit back down, will you?” he said, gesturing to the couch.

Alex fell back into the soft cushions of the ratty old couch. “Well, it was kinda both, wasn’t it?”

Hercules was silent. Alex closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch. 

Alex felt the cushions shift as Herc stood up. “You sleeping out here tonight?” he asked.

Alex sighed. “I suppose. Can’t feel my feet, anyway. Might collapse if I stood up again.”

“Alright,” Herc said, picking up a nearby blanket. “Catch,” he said, tossing it to Alex. He headed down the hall. “See you in the morning.”

The lights shut off and Alex wrapped the blanket around himself.

He dreamt of laughter and an endless night sky.

 

* * *

The second the waitress at the podium directed him to his table, Alexander took a double take.

His date’s back was to him, and was wearing a suit in the most ridiculous shade of pink. It shimmered slightly, enough to be cocky but not enough to put most people off. He was sure that if he looked on the front, it would have silver buttons or some bullshit.

Even the curls hanging off of his date’s head put him off. Something about the posture of this person rubbed him the wrong way.

And that fucking suit!

_ Who on earth would wear a pink sui _ _ — _

Oh. Alex knew  _ exactly _ who would. Now that he thought about it, the hair made sense as well.

He whipped around and punched Hercules’s contact information into his phone, marching back toward the outside.

He swung the door open as his phone rang into his ear.

“Herc!” he hissed into his phone as soon as he picked up, “You didn’t tell me my date was  _ Thomas fucking Jefferson _ .”

“Oh yeah, I knew there was something I forgot to tell you,” Herc said. 

Alex almost screamed into the phone. “Oh my god, it is! I was hoping you’d say it was someone else, but no.”

He could almost hear Hercules shrug. “Forgot to tell you, sorry bud.”

“Don’t play dumb, we both know you never planned on telling me.”

“Yeah, because I knew it was the only way to get you on this date,” Herc said. “Listen, it’s been years since you were in school. Years since you’ve seen him. And you told me yourself that he was hot. How did you put it? Hate sex material.”

Alex whined. “Don’t use my own words against me.”

“Only because your words tend to be more persuasive than mine.” Alex heard Herc sigh. “Listen, he’s still hot, and who knows? Maybe he’s not a complete dick anymore.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “He still has that stupid pink suit.”

“And you’re wearing an emerald-green suit. Shut up and go on this date.”

A beep sounded in Alex’s ear. Alex pulled his phone down and stared at the blank screen. 

“He hung up on me,” he said, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “The asshole.”

He swung the door back open, grumbling on his way in. 

“Oh, my date is my former rival from college, and you didn't think it was the slightest bit important to tell me. Would it really be that hard?” Alex rolled his eyes back into his head. “ _ Hey, Alex, by the way, your date is shitty so prepare ahead of time _ ,” he mocked. “It’s really all he had to say.”

He sighed and stopped behind the table once more. He brushed his hair back and decided that if this date was going to happen, he’d better be the better looking one, damnit.

Alex took the two short steps forward and sat himself into the chair across from the head of hair he knew all too well. 

“Alexander Hamilton,” Jefferson said, hardly looking up from the menu. It wasn’t a question. 

“Hello, Jefferson,” Alex said. “For some reason, we appear to be at the same table. And yet, I still have to sit through dinner with you before I’m allowed to leave. So let’s make this as painless as possible, so it would be best if you didn’t speak.”

“The same could be said for you, Hamilton,” Jefferson drawled. “I’d suggest that you be the one not to speak, but I doubt you even could hold your tongue for that long if someone held a knife up to your throat.”

Alex grinned. “I’m not going to stay quiet out of spite, if that’s what you want.”

Jefferson raised an eyebrow. “Oh good, you still think that everything I do is to challenge you.”

“Isn’t it?”

Jefferson scoffed. “Which one of us is dressing like fake royalty?”

Alex looked down at his green suit. He looked over at Jefferson’s pink one. “You’re one to talk, with your velvet, gold buttons, and those frills,” he said, gesturing to the elaborate jacket Jefferson had on.

He opened his mouth to respond, when —

“What can I get you two gorgeous gentlemen tonight?” A waitress with curly brown hair said, standing over them.

Alex blinked. “You don’t normally work this table, do you?”

The waitress smiled and shook her head. “Actually, it’s part of my section. John’s just been doing me a solid and taking this table for the past few weeks. It is John you’re wondering about, yes?”

“Yeah, where is he?”

The waitress shrugged. “Don't know. Think he may have gotten fired. The boss was yelling at him yesterday for punching a customer.”

Alex fought a grin. “Did he, now?”

“Yeah. John apologized to our boss, but if you ask me, he didn't seem too sorry.”

Alex threw his head back and laughed. “That's great.”

She shrugged again before pulling out her notepad. “Yeah. Anyways, I'm Martha, I'll be serving you tonight, what can I get you?”

“I’d like a decent date please. My bad, I meant the spaghetti,” Jefferson said, handing her his menu. 

Alex nodded. “I’ll have the same, except I’d also like to order a side of whoop-ass.”

Martha smiled. “I’ll have that out to you as soon as I can.”

As soon as she walked off, Alex dropped his smile and faced Jefferson. “Listen, as refreshing as it is to have a rival again, I’m supposed to actually give you a chance because you ‘might be a changed person’,” Alex air-quoted.

Jefferson leaned back into his chair. “It’s pretty obvious we still hate each other, but sure, let’s try one dinner. Maybe you’ve grown to be less annoying.”

Alex rolled his eyes, stifling a grin when he thought about how John would react when he told him about this trainwreck — Former rival Thomas Jefferson is now his blind date. 

_ Oh, that’s right. John’s been fired. _

He shook himself. “And maybe you’ve grown to be less of an ass.”

“We’ll see,” Jefferson said. “Which one of us is going to start the whole story-of-my-life spiel that one normally gives on dates?”

Alex almost hesitated. “Well, after I graduated I tried to get a job in city hall to get my political career started. Unfortunately, a girl I went on one date with decided to frame me for illicit drug use, essentially. I almost got arrested. They weren’t going to let me into their job department after that ordeal.”

Jefferson smirked. “Sucks to be you, really, because I have been working as a campaign manager. I’ve got plans of my own to run for office as soon as possible.”

Alex shot daggers at him. “Yeah, I know. It came up in an article I wrote about a year ago.”

Jefferson laughed. “Oh, that’s right! You run a political opinion column in the paper. Which is a spot you share with a few others; you only get an article in every few weeks. How much does that pay, again?”

"Not enough,” Alex said. “But at least I don’t have to go into a desk job. It’s all work from home, I email them what I write. They choose which ones to publish. I get paid by the article.”

“That’s cute,” Jefferson said. “You’re basically their bitch, your ability to pay rent is in their hands.”

“Okay, if this is just going to be you shitting on me for not having money, I’ll leave right now and let you pick up the bill if you’re so well-off,” Alex said, standing up and smoothing his pants.

“Sit down Alexander.”

“Oh, we’re on a first-name basis now?”

Jefferson sighed and waved his hand. “If we’re on a date we might as well try it.”

“Alright Thomas,” Alex said, sitting back down. “Let’s say we give this date a shot. How on earth do you propose that we put aside our intense rivalry?”

Jefferson paused.

After a moment, he held out his hand. “I’m Thomas Jefferson, I have never heard of you before, which is astonishing because you are quite loud.”

Alex shook Jefferson’s hand. “I’m Alexander Hamilton, I’ve never seen you before in my life, which is surprising because your ego is the size of the Empire State Building.”

He made eye contact and for a moment, neither of them let go, their eyes silently challenging each other. 

“How are we doing tonight?”

The waitress (Martha, Alex reminded himself) had returned. She was carrying two identical plates, and held them over the table. Alex and Jefferson broke their eye contact and smiled at her, accepting their respective plates. 

“There you go, spaghetti for both of you,” she said.

“Thank you,” Jefferson said. Alex shot her a thumbs-up.

“I am sorry,” Martha said, “I couldn’t find our whoop-ass, we’re out of stock.”

Alex grinned. “That’s alright, I bring my own.”

Alex whipped his head back to Jefferson when he heard him scoff. “It appears that you’re also out of good dates as well.”

Martha brushed her hands on her pants.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Martha said after a brief pause, nodding her way out. 

“Out of good dates?” Alex hissed. He bit back his words. “My bad, I’m supposed to be on a nice, civil date with a stranger.”

“You’re right,” Jefferson said. “And this stranger so happens to think that this date is going poorly. So, you said you ‘work’ for the paper, what are you currently writing?”

Alex shrugged. “I’m investigating the new budget city hall has released.”

Jefferson raised an eyebrow. “And that’ll get published in a political opinion column?”

“I said I was investigating it, not that it was going to be in the paper. I’ll write it, but along with many things I write, it will probably remain on my hard drive and nowhere else.”

“What did you find?” Jefferson asked, sipping his drink.

Alex scoffed. “The usual. Not enough tax revenue to cover the programs the city is currently attempting to fund.”

“Would you have them raise taxes? Imagine the outrage.”

“It’s something the city needs to do, has been needing to do for some time,” Alex said, gesturing with his hands. “It can’t just be the cool kid, it has to grow up and be the strict parent.”

Jefferson laughed. “I see now why your political career flopped.”

Alex made an indignant noise in the back of his throat. “Excuse me?”

“You’re too rash, would have the city jack up the taxes. The citizens would lose their mind and you’d never have a shot at being voted into any sort of office.”

“You’re speaking as if you aren’t a resident of the same city I am.”

“I’d like to think I’m above its nonsense.”

Alex stopped, his mouth in the middle of forming his next words. “Okay, this date isn’t working, I definitely still hate you,” Alex said, flagging down a nearby staff member. “I’d like a box please.”

“And another for me, thanks,” Jefferson added. The waiter nodded and walked off. Jefferson looked back to Alex. “This might be the only thing we’ve ever agreed on.”

Alex almost slammed his hand on the table. “Oh, don’t pretend that I’m agreeing with you. We’re both making separate decisions that happen to coincide.”

“God, you’re so full of yourself.”

“And you aren't? Who, in our sophomore debate club, proposed a fundraising plan despite my being in charge of finances for our club?” Alex accused.

“And whose plan worked better?”

“Mine!” Alex hissed. “My plan was great! It would have worked if you hadn’t fucked up every important step to it!”

He was standing now, staring down Jefferson as best he could. His takeout box was gripped tightly in his hands.

Jefferson snapped his box of food shut. “No, your plan would have torn the club apart, what with requiring the members to pay a fee. I saved the club!”

Alex wanted to scream. He settled for standing up, gripping his takeout box. “And then promptly destroyed it by inviting those trivia kids in. They never showed up to any tournaments, and we got disqualified.”

Jefferson stood up as well, nose to nose with Alex. “And that wouldn’t have happened if you — ” he pressed a single finger to Alex’s chest, pushing him back slightly, “ — hadn’t been your insufferable self.  _ I  _ was in charge of making sure new members were okay.”

“And I was in charge of finances but you had to stick your ugly face into that,” Alex hissed.

Jefferson spat something back but Alex dismissed it with a flip of his middle finger.

It had been awhile since Alex had been so angry that he wasn’t quite aware of the events going on around him.

Jefferson had that sort of effect on him.

And so Alex found himself standing outside, unsure as to what he had said in retaliation, only knowing that he spat words as angry as he felt. He didn’t know how long he might have stood there arguing with Jefferson, only that he was outside and Jefferson was gone now.

Alexander felt the familiar pit of anger fall into the bottom of his stomach. He had  _ forgotten _ how much he loathed Thomas Jefferson and everything he stood for.

He clutched his takeout box. “God, that fucking ass. First, he has the nerve to think that he knows how to fundraise better than me. Me! I funded my entire way through college!”

He kicked a rock down the street. “And then the ass goes and blocks any of my attempts to make my plan actually work. Of  _ course  _ it didn’t work, you assholes didn’t follow through!”

He sighed. Trust a dumb date to get Alex back into his outrage over that club. It was years ago, but Alex was still frustrated and angry that Jefferson managed to block any of his attempts to get an actually effective income for the group. 

He wanted to rely on donations. Alex wanted to add an entrance fee to members of the club to help support everything they had to pay for. Transportation to tournaments, as well as anything else the club would need to fund. Then, no one would have to pay for themselves when the time came, as all the money was in a pool they could draw from. They could compete in local contests until they got to the point where the donations increased enough to fund them further. 

Unfortunately, the club only adopted the fee, and not the idea to only debate at smaller events. So, one by one, the members got fed up with all the extra fees. Half the group never showed up. They lost a lot of debates because of technicalities — at least 70 percent of the group had to show up.

None of it would have happened if Jefferson would have just listened to him instead of fighting with him until they had a compromise that didn’t work.

God, it wasn’t near as satisfying, ranting to himself. He wanted to grumble about this nonsense to a face that would stare back and listen. Crack a joke or two, quickly and easily turning a shitty situation into a nice one. 

_ I’d rather have a five minute conversation with John than another hour-long date. _

Alex suddenly stopped. He stared at a nearby tree and let the evening breeze blow past him. 

Oh. 

John was the one he needed to talk to. John was the one that he should be with on this damned evening. 

He grinned and looked down, spinning in the memory of John punching Charles. It was so satisfying, seeing Charles knocked to the ground. And John, he stood there, breathing steady. 

His memory might be exaggerating, but it might have been the hottest thing Alexander had ever seen.

And afterward, on their walk and dinner, Alex had relaxed into the jokes and stories that they shared with each other. There was some sort of pull between them, and a blind date without John to rant about it afterward left a bitter taste in his mouth.

What was it that Herc had said?

_ Alex’s face split into a grin. “We laughed at dumb stories we told each other. Hit up a McDonalds at around midnight, called it a date. As a joke, of course, but it was better than anything you’ve sent me on so far.” _

_ “Sounds to me,” Herc said, “That you should ask this John out. And to be fair, Maria was not my fault.” _

_ Alex gaped at him. “Are you serious? I don’t even know if he’s single!” _

Oh my god, he needed to figure out a way to contact John before he was set up on another disaster date.

And damn, he needed to figure out a way to do it without admitting that Hercules was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu on [tumblr](http://upsidearound.tumblr.com)


	6. Curl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a short chapter, but we're nearing the end! One more to go after this one. y'all can probably guess what's going to happen, but I can pretend like I managed to keep unnecessary foreshadowing to a minimum

Alexander was having a perfectly fine afternoon. He was sitting on the couch, typing up a strongly-worded letter to his higher-up, the one who decided if his stories were “good enough” for the paper. He hated having such an unreliable source of income. He hated the fact that Jefferson made fun of him for it. And frankly, Alex was getting sick of writing things that get rejected for being “too opinionated”. What the hell was a political opinion column supposed to be, then?

He wanted to storm up to Mister Burr’s office and give him a piece of his mind, but since he didn’t have clearance as a part-time employee, he had to settle for an email.

So he was having a perfectly fine afternoon until Lafayette pulled up a chair next to him and started talking.

“So I hear all of Hercules’s dates haven’t worked out well.”

“Nope, they did not,” Alex said, continuing to type on his computer.

Lafayette slid closer. “ _Donc, veux-tu sortir avec…_ ”

Alex’s typing did not falter. “Just because I no longer trust Hercules to set me up doesn’t mean I automatically trust you. This is not a lever of date trust-distrust. I have an unlimited supply.”

“That’s too bad,” Lafayette started. “Because I already set a date for you two, and he’s down to go. Made the reservation and everything.”

Alex slammed the lid of his computer down and whipped around to look at Laf. “Lafayette, why would you do that?”

Laf shrugged. “You can’t ignore it now.”

Alex shook his head. “No. No. I _will_ be ignoring it.” He stood up and began to pace around the room. Of course Lafayette had taken initiative just when Alex had decided he needed to get his own dates. “In fact,” he started, shaking his finger, “I’m leaving right now to go ask a guy out. I don’t need your help getting a date.”

Lafayette raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yes!” Alex clambered for his wallet that was lying on the table. “I don’t even have his number, so I guess I have to make it up as I go along. But I’d rather do that then let you set me up with anyone.”

Lafayette scoffed. “Bonne chance, Alexandre.”

Alex rolled his eyes and shut the door on his way out.

 

* * *

 

He was halfway through the door of _Le Petit Lion_ before he realized he had no idea how he was going to contact John. And he didn’t want to be that guy who creepily gets a phone number from someone else.

There was still a 90% chance John was fired.

There was still a 50% chance that, even if he wasn’t fired, that he simply wasn’t scheduled to work at this time.

And yet, Alexander had decided to proclaim to Lafayette that he didn’t need help finding a date. He couldn’t have just told Laf the truth, that he probably wasn’t going to find John and that he just lost contact with the best date-material in months.

No, instead he was currently staking his pride on the fact that John could still be working here, and that he is currently working a shift.

He thanked his impulsiveness for getting him into yet another mess.

He was already here. Might as well try. And hey, if John turned out to be fired, then he’d just have to find someone to fake-date him for awhile.

“Oh, hey Martha,” he greeted, recognizing his waitress from a few nights ago. “This might sound strange, but is there any chance that John is back? As in, not fired?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Why would I tell you anything?”

Alex grinned. “That’s code for yes, isn’t it? Listen, he’s super cute and I’ve had all these terrible blind dates lately, I just want to see if he’d be interested in going on a date with me.”

Martha sighed. “Okay, Mister Whoop-Ass. I’ll go get John for you.”

She turned and walked off as Alex whined something about “only saying ‘whoop-ass’ in the heat of the moment.”

She returned with John in tow. She winked at Alex before waving them off and going back to work.

John pressed his hands to his pockets. “So, Martha said you wanted to talk to me about something?”

“Yeah, I do,” Alex said. He noticed John’s hair for a moment, it was adorably tied back except one curl that had managed to fall back into his face. Alex may have blushed.

John tilted his head expectantly. The curl fell to his cheek. 

"I, uh," Alex gestured at John. “I’m amazed you didn’t get fired!”

John laughed. “Oh, I did. I just continued to show up for work. See, Washington can yell all he likes but until he fills out the proper paperwork, I’m still a legal employee. So I showed up, because you bet your ass that Washington hasn’t done that paperwork. No one likes paperwork.”

Alex let out an indignant cry and pointed to himself. “I like paperwork!”

John rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re always the exception, aren't you?” He met Alexander’s eyes.

Alex may have let out a small gasp, but he honestly couldn’t tell you for sure. He felt dizzy, suddenly noticing the incredible depths of John’s eyes. He felt like he was drowning, he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. But he didn’t want to.

God, and John’s eyes were connected by a starry bridge of freckles across his nose. Alex didn’t know how he never quite noticed how many of them John had. He felt his heat swell as his eyes danced over John’s face, memorizing the constellations.

“Hey, weren’t you going to ask me something?” John said, waving a hand in front of Alex’s face.

Alex blinked. “What? Oh. Yes! I was!”

John stared him. Alex tapped his finger on the desk, bouncing on his heels slightly and not meeting his eyes.

“Do you want to go on a date with me? Friday?” Alex blurted. “I’m sick of these blind dates, and I’ll have another unless I get a date the proper way. Not that you’re a cop-out! I just think you’re really great, funny, hot, and I’d like to at least try and ask you out?”

Alexander looked back into John’s eyes.

“Oh,” John said, his face falling.

Alex coughed. He felt his face begin to flush. “That’s fine! No is fine! I just had to try, you know?” He rubbed his hands on his jeans. “That’s totally fine, I’ll just—” he gestured behind himself, “—leave.”

He ran his hands through his hair and took a short breath. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe an _I’m sorry for making this weird_ or perhaps _please go on a date with me, I’m lonely and you’re the best person I’ve met in a long time_. But he didn’t say anything. He just forced his jaw shut and nodded at John.

He turned and stepped toward the door. He placed his hand on the glass and began to push it open.

“Wait!”

Alex froze and turned around to look at John, not daring to hope.

“I really like you, Alex,” John said. “I think you’re great, funny and hot too. It’s just that—” John waved a hand helplessly, “—I’ve already got a date.”

Alexander let his hand slide down the side of the door. He took another breath as he gazed at John and those freckles he could lose himself in. Perhaps he already had.

Alex morphed his face into a smile. “Well, have fun with your boyfriend.” He ducked out of the door and didn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

Alex collapsed into the couch. He let his face fall into his hands for a moment before rubbing his eyes and brushing his hair back.

“When’s the date?”

“Mon Dieu, Alex, what’s going on?” Lafayette said, sitting beside Alex.

Alex sighed, staring off into the corner, avoiding eye contact. “When’s the date?” he repeated. “The one you created without my permission?”

Lafayette paused. “Three days from now.”

“Good,” Alex said, scrubbing his face. “I’ll be there.”

“I’m glad you’re letting Herc and me try and help you find someone, but—” Laf sighed, “—Alexandre, what’s wrong?”

Alex folded his arms over himself. “Just dissapointed. I’ll get over it. The guy I like? Turns out he’s already got a boyfriend. So that’s that. ”

He fell silent. Lafayette slid an arm over Alex’s shoulders. Alexander closed his eyes.

“ _Merci, Lafayette,_ ” Alexander murmured.

“We’ll find you someone, _d’accord Alexandre?_ ”

Alex pulled away from Lafayette. “Good fucking luck,” he muttered.

“And,” Laf continued, raising a finger, “if we can’t, who says you need a relationship? You’ve got us.”

Alexander sighed. “If that’s the case, I don’t want anymore of these blind dates.”

“Done,” Lafayette said.

“What, just like that? You’re not going to fight me on this?” Alex said, raising his eyebrows.

“Herc and I, we just want you to quit moping all the time. So yes, if giving up on romantic relationships will help you be happy, then we can support you.”

Alexander scoffed. “I suppose I still have to go to that one a few days from now, though?”

Lafayette sighed. “Yes. But there will be no more.”

Alex took a deep breath. He stood up and faced Lafayette. “I’m going to bed. Don’t wake me up when you come back to sleep.”

Lafayette waved him off.

Alexander left without another word.

He let his disappointment rock him to sleep that night. He filled his head with sweet daydreams of things that could never be and let them fade away as his eyes drifted shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still on [tumblr](http://upsidearound.tumblr.com) and I'm still [looking for a beta](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1stsHApM0N6gjLBewO8yaH7xSJaR3dT7Q81ULPCFZWEU/viewform?entry.1719541925&entry.1814286483&entry.170009068&entry.1274416658&entry.168627929&entry.307153231&entry.1233924649)


	7. Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally done! And just in time for the fourth of July. 
> 
> Okay, so you all know I've been looking for a beta/editor. Those that I am seriously considering have been contacted, and thanks all for applying! (If you're wondering why I haven't contacted you, it's probably because you thought my writing was too good. tbh I need editors who think my writing isn't good.)
> 
> I will be posting less to ao3 as I work on a huge project, and I want to do this fic right. So I'll be writing it all before I post anything, and after I get a rough draft possible betas will be contacted again. 
> 
> I'll probably still do oneshots from prompts that interest me, but I'll hold off on any more multichaps.
> 
> (Shoutout to Terra_of_Roshar who predicted the ending of this fic way back in Chapter 4)

Three days later, and Alexander was walking into a generic Olive Garden. 

It was a regular 7 o’clock date, and he wore a plain white shirt with a simple tie. He was utterly resigned. His eyes were looking at the scene in front of him, but he didn’t feel it necessary to bring anything into focus. 

_ Hey _ , he thought.  _ New restaurant, maybe this date would go better. _

Or maybe just the most uneventful date ever. 

Still, boring would be better than any of the rest. He’d take boring over another Jefferson in a heartbeat. Or another Charles Lee. Or another Seabury. Or another date where he made of a fool of himself, like he had with Maria.

And there was another  _ Wait To Be Seated _ sign at this restaurant. Alex stood by it.

“Hello, can I help you?” a waiter passing by asked.

Alex brightened. “Yes, reservation for Lafayette?”

The waiter nodded. “Right this way.”

Alexander was led to the table that he was supposed to have his date at. He sat stiffly in the chair, not entirely sure what to expect. He looked back to possibly order a glass of water, or perhaps a cup of coffee, but the waiter had already left, assumedly to serve other guests.

Alex grabbed a stray napkin lying on the table, grinning as he began to fold and unfold it, remembering his first blind date. Absentmindedly messing with the napkin, knowing John as only “Freckles”, actually trusting Hercules to set him up with someone good.

He wondered for half a moment why Lafayette hadn’t set up his date at  _ Le Petit Lion _ . Despite the awful name it was the usual spot for these disastrous dates.

He was disappointed, only having Freckles, John, to look forward to on these dates. Even if John was already seeing someone.

A familiar freckled face walked towards him. Alexander briefly wondered if his daydreaming was getting out of hand. John didn’t work here.

But no, John caught Alexander’s eye and flashed a grin. Alex had to do a double take.

“John?” He asked. “Do you work at every restaurant in this city?”

John stopped in his tracks. “No, I’m here for my date. A super cute guy I’ve heard a lot about.”

Alex almost cringed. “Oh right, it’s Friday. Kinda funny that we’re both on our separate dates on the same night in the same place. Small world.”

John slid into the seat across from Alex. “Yep. Separate dates for sure.”

Wait.

Alex felt his face split into a grin. “Oh, I am going to  _ kill _ Lafayette.”

John opened his arms. “Surprise, I’m your date,” he said.

Alex rolled his eyes. “You — ” he pointed across the table, “ — are a dick, I thought I was being rejected!”

John grinned. “Well, when you mentioned that the date was to be on Friday, I semi figured it out. I confirmed with Lafayette the next day.”

Alex scoffed. “I repeat, I am going to  _ kill _ Lafayette.”

“So,” John said, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table, “do you think this date will go just as bad as the rest?”

Alexander snorted. “I hope not.”

John straightened his tie and placed an odd expression on his face. “Oh, I’m your blind date, and I’m here to tell you that everything you stand for is terrible,” he mocked.

Alex threw his head back and laughed. “That’s basically how it went. Every goddamn night.”

“I know,” John said, raising an eyebrow. “I was there.”

Alexander scoffed. “Well you were only there for the aftermath, you don’t know the half of it.”

“Why don’t you tell me about them, then?” John asked. 

“What can I get you two tonight?” a waitress’s voice dropped into the conversation.

“I’ll take the special,” Alex said, gazing at John and waving off the waitress.

“Same for me,” John said, handing off the menus and not quite looking away either. “And two glasses of water.”

The waitress left Alex and John to each other. 

Alexander was the first to make conversation. He told John the story of his disaster date with Jefferson, citing “you weren’t there afterward, so you get to listen to me complain about him now.”

When John began to talk about the corruption in government and the [unreliability of restaurant food](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5MmWCHFq0BA), Alexander almost swooned.

They talked, they swapped stories, they laughed.

They weren’t at the same weak-in-the-knees laughter that they had the last time they really talked. No, they didn’t grip each other as they fell down to the ground in laughter, but they relaxed into each other.

The laughter they exchanged wasn’t loud. It wasn’t making people turn their heads and stare at them. No, the laughter they exchanged was more of a gentle sigh. An exhale and a grin. Alex was content.

Their specials arrived, but for once Alexander was more interested in his date than the meal. He held his fork loosely as it rested on the table, almost forgotten.

“ — And so I’m standing there, almost entirely naked, my left foot spray painted red, and all I can do is look up at my professor and just stare him right in the eye and ask ‘So, how about that extra credit?’”

Alex’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope, true story,” John said, grinning and opening his hands in a surrender. 

“Oh, hey,” Alex said, sighing out of a laugh, “Martha said something the other day, when I was on a date while you were fired.”

John twirled the ice in his glass with his straw. “Well, I was never really fired but I’ll let you continue.”

Alex stopped. “Wait, never really fired? I thought it was ambiguous as to if you’d get your job back or not.”

John shrugged, his eyes hiding a grin. “Okay, I was at least sixty percent sure that Washington wasn’t going to suspend me forever.”

Alex snorted. “Says the person who was hanging out outside the restaurant he works at because he had nothing better to do.”

“Bite me,” John said.

“Maybe later,” Alex deadpanned.

The blush that spread across John’s face was well worth the awkward silence. 

“Didn’t, uh,” John coughed, “didn’t you have something you were telling me?”

Alex nodded. “Oh! Yes! I was talking about Martha, right?”

John waved him on.

Alexander grinned. “Okay, well —” Alex leaned forward, “— she told me that the table I always had my dates at,  _ your _ table, was actually  _ her  _ table. Do you want to explain that?”

John smiled and looked down. “You know, it was incredibly difficult to explain to Martha that ‘he’s super cute’ is a good reason to change table assignments, are you telling me that was all in vain?”

“That depends,” Alexander said. “Are you telling me that I’m super cute?”

John snorted. “I thought we were already on a date, there’s no need to try and convince me to wine and dine you.”

“Isn’t there?”

John shrugged. “No, not really. Although, I suppose you could flirt your way to the next date.”

Alex choked on his drink. “There’s a, ah, a next one?”

“No!” John said, raising his hands, “Not if you don’t want to, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Alex felt a blush rise on his neck. “No, that’s okay, I want to have a next one,” he said, smiling.

“Yeah?” John asked.

“Yeah,” Alexander agreed. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had a successful date.”

John raised his glass. “To many more. With me, preferably”

Alex raised his and tapped it to John’s. “Sounds good to me.”

Needless to say, Alexander smiled in relief of having a date that went well. With the promise of another as well. 

It was surreal, the noise of the restaurant faded into the back of Alexander’s mind as he felt his future manifesting itself in front of him.

 

* * *

 

EPILOGUE 

 

“No, Lafayette I will not!”

Lafayette crossed over to Alex. “Dites-moi Alexandre, you know I was right.”

Alex fell onto the couch. “As great as John is and as great as that date went, I will not tell you that you were right to set us up.”

Lafayette lifted a finger. “You have me to thank for this date.”

Alex sighed. “I’d get up and argue with you properly if I wasn’t in such a good mood right now.”

“Because of me.”

Alex waved him off. “I would have gotten a date anyway.”

Lafayette laughed. “Whatever you say.” He paused. “So, how did it go?”

Alex grinned and rolled over to face Lafayette. “Oh my god, Lafayette, he’s so funny and witty, he takes no shit and has the  _ best  _ stories, and his freckles match his eyes, and the whole time I was just waiting for him to say or do something that was less-than-perfect but it never happened.”

“So you like him?” Laf asked.

“Yeah,” Alexander sighed, “I really think he’s something special.”

It was only one date, but it felt like a golden-hot coal in his memory. All he had to do was fan it into a flame.


End file.
